The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Band 3Little, Brown, 1855 |
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Seite 3
... leaves to the light , And closed them beneath the kisses of night . And the Spring arose on the garden fair , And the Spirit of Love fell everywhere ; And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast Rose from the dreams of its wintry ...
... leaves to the light , And closed them beneath the kisses of night . And the Spring arose on the garden fair , And the Spirit of Love fell everywhere ; And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast Rose from the dreams of its wintry ...
Seite 6
... leaf to the root , Received more than all , it loved more than ever , Where none wanted but it , could belong to the giver- For the Sensitive Plant has no bright flower ; Radiance and odour are not its dower ; It loves , even like Love ...
... leaf to the root , Received more than all , it loved more than ever , Where none wanted but it , could belong to the giver- For the Sensitive Plant has no bright flower ; Radiance and odour are not its dower ; It loves , even like Love ...
Seite 10
... leaf looked brown - she died ! PART III . THREE days the flowers of the garden fair , Like stars when the noon is awakened , were , Or the waves of the Baix , ere luminous She floats up through the smoke of Vesuvius . And on the fourth ...
... leaf looked brown - she died ! PART III . THREE days the flowers of the garden fair , Like stars when the noon is awakened , were , Or the waves of the Baix , ere luminous She floats up through the smoke of Vesuvius . And on the fourth ...
Seite 11
... leaves , like flakes of crimson snow , Paved the turf and the moss below . The lilies were drooping , and white , and wan , Like the head and the skin of a dying man . And Indian plants , of scent and hue The sweetest THE SENSITIVE ...
... leaves , like flakes of crimson snow , Paved the turf and the moss below . The lilies were drooping , and white , and wan , Like the head and the skin of a dying man . And Indian plants , of scent and hue The sweetest THE SENSITIVE ...
Seite 12
... Leaf after leaf , day by day , Were massed into the common clay . And the leaves , brown , yellow , and gray , and red , And white with the whiteness of what is dead , Like troops of ghosts on the dry wind past ; Their whistling noise ...
... Leaf after leaf , day by day , Were massed into the common clay . And the leaves , brown , yellow , and gray , and red , And white with the whiteness of what is dead , Like troops of ghosts on the dry wind past ; Their whistling noise ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Adonais ANTISTROPHE art thou Baubo Bay of Spezia beams beast beautiful beneath boat bowers breath bright burning calm cave cavern chidden CHORUS clouds cold cradle CYCLOPS CYPRIAN DÆMON dance dark dead dear death deep delight DEMON divine dream earth eternal eyes faint fair FAUST fear fire flame transformed fled flowers gentle glorious golden gray green heart heaven Hermes immortal Jove JUSTINA kiss leaves LEIGH HUNT Lerici light living MEPHISTOPHELES mighty moon mortal mountain never night o'er ocean odour Onchestus pale Pisa rain rocks round Serchio shadow Shelley shore SILENUS singing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit splendour stars stream sweet swift tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought throne thunder trembling ULYSSES veil Via Reggio voice wake wandering waves weep Whilst Widener Library wild wind wings Witch
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 166 - He is made one with Nature: there is heard His voice in all her music, from the moan Of thunder to the song of night's sweet bird; He is a presence to be felt and known In darkness and in light, from herb and stone, Spreading itself where'er that Power may move Which has withdrawn his being to its own; Which wields the world with never wearied love, Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.
Seite 32 - Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love which overflows her bower : Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view : XI.
Seite 170 - The One remains, the many change and pass ; Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly; Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of Eternity, Until Death tramples it to fragments.
Seite 173 - I sighed for thee. Thy brother Death came, and cried, Wouldst thou me? Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noontide bee, Shall I nestle near thy side? Wouldst thou me? — And I replied, No, not thee ! Death will come when thou art dead, Soon, too soon — Sleep will come when thou art fled; Of neither would I ask the boon I ask of thee, beloved Night — Swift be thine approaching flight, Come soon, soon!
Seite 29 - I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky ; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores ; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain, The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams, Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
Seite 167 - And many more, whose names on Earth are dark, But whose transmitted effluence cannot die So long as fire outlives the parent spark, Rose, robed in dazzling immortality. " Thou art become as one of us," they cry, " It was for thee yon kingless sphere has long Swung blind in unascended majesty, Silent alone amid an Heaven of Song. Assume thy winged throne, thou Vesper of our throng!
Seite 25 - The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle.
Seite 165 - He has outsoared the shadow of our night; Envy and calumny and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again; From the contagion of the world's slow stain He is secure, and now can never mourn A heart grown cold, a head grown gray in vain; Nor, when the spirit's self has ceased to burn, With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn.
Seite 27 - I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Seite 31 - Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...